


home is wherever i'm with you

by wolfchester



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, i just want everyone to be happy, this is a whole load of crack, with some feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: snapshots from the first year.(let’s pretend we’re back to the simple times of season 1 and no one’s died, the Ark hasn’t come down yet, there’s no second apocalypse. just the kids having some silly adventures.)(also everyone's alive. and everyone actually had time to relax and just be KIDS. i have basically removed every dramatic plot point #nodramashere)





	home is wherever i'm with you

**Author's Note:**

> so I got the idea to do this by taking a whole bunch of hilarious text posts and memes and turning them into a huge multi chap. ENJOY
> 
> p.s. I may be slow to update, but I promise this will get finished. just hang in there pls

They’ve been down on the ground for a couple months by now, and the 100 have been able to make Dropship Village kind of a great little home. There’s a small garden growing all kinds of plants and food. Some super weird radioactively-modified plants that look like purple carrots and taste like bananas. Some  _ actual  _ bananas. Some crops planted using seeds that were packed in the dropship, like potatoes and pumpkin. Bryan and Monty had joined forces with other kids from farm station to grow crops of corn and wheat in the cleared space behind the dropship (and, you know, weed - ancestors from farm station continued to secretly farm it on the Ark, and Jasper managed to smuggle some down to the ground).

Raven built a water pump and filter that was placed in the centre of camp, so everyone could have access to fresh water at any time. 

It’s a good functioning system of growing food and all that, but there were still some things they could only get from foraging trips in the forest. Herbs, nuts, berries. Different kinds of barks that Lincoln’s healing recipes needed. 

And so there’s foraging expeditions, run by Roma and Finn, with a dedicated and trained group of kids to go out on bi-weekly trips into the forest. A couple of guards always come along to protect against any potential grounder attacks. This week, Murphy is one of these guards. And he’s not happy about it.

“C’mon, Collins. How many more hours are we gonna spend rifling through dirt, man. This is disgusting,” Murphy says as he kicks what looks like a dead rat out of his path. 

Finn rolls his eyes. “You know we’ve gotta get this stuff to help with medicines and all that. Plus, you know,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “ _ Herbs _ .”

“I know you mean marijuana and I’m into it, and I expect Jasper to give some as payment for this when we get back.”

Finn just laughs, and throws a Murphy a small hemp sack. “I know you’re supposed to be on guard, but we could use the extra hands.”

Murphy opens his mouth like he’s about to protest, but Finn’s already walking away, gone to help other members of the foraging group. Murphy throws his hands up to the heavens in exasperation, mutters something about how he’s  _ never appreciated around here _ , and gets to work digging for roots. It’s tiring and dirty work, and after half an hour of it, Murphy gives up. He sits down on a rotting log and picks the dirt out from underneath his fingernails.

It’s then that he spies a cluster of blue mushrooms growing on the side of the log. He remembers Clarke reminding the foraging group before they left camp something about which fungi and plants were edible and which weren’t, but he’ll be the first to admit that he’s not a great listener. All he can remember is that she mentioned blue mushrooms, but whether she said they’re poisonous or not is another story.

He stares at the mushrooms. It feels like they stare back. They’re almost  _ glowing _ , like they’re beckoning Murphy to touch them.  _ Fuck it _ , he thinks,  _ they’ll either taste good, give me a weird trip, or they’ll kill me _ . The last option is least preferable, but he feels like taking a bit of a risk.

Plus, he’s so fucking bored. And if he dies, he dies. It’s kind of whatever at this point.

Plucking one of the shrooms from the stalk, he shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It tastes...fruity? Yeah, like oranges. Citrusy. Weird. He swallows it, waits a couple seconds.  _ Okay, not dead yet.  _ The rest of the mushrooms continue to stare at him. What’s one more?

The taste so good he eats the whole bunch. He feels absolutely fine. The skin on his face is a little itchy, but he attributes that to the dirt caked on it from digging for roots.

It’s not until he grabs his bag full - okay, a quarter-full, because he’s a useless forager - and makes his way back to the rest of the foraging group that it turns out to be something completely different.

“Holy  _ shit _ , Murphy, what the fuck happened to you!” Finn exclaims, pointing at Murphy’s face.

“What do you mean?” 

“Your- your  _ face _ , dude. It’s massive.”

“What?” Murphy reaches up and touches his forehead, eyes, cheeks. Nothing feels out of the ordinary. Until - oh. Yep. His mouth is completely swollen.

“What the-”

“Oh my God. This is hilarious. What did you eat?” Monroe steps closer to him. “You know Clarke said to stay away from the- oh. You ate a blue shroom, didn’t you.” She shakes her head and laughs. “Bet you you thought it was gonna be like the red ones, give you a nice little hallucinogenic trip. Sucks to be you. That shit won’t heal for, like,  _ days _ .”

If Murphys eyes could go any wider, they be popping out of his head. He throws the bag of roots onto the ground and raises his arms to the heavens, like he’s trying to challenge God. “Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me?!” 

Monroe and Finn can’t stop laughing all the way back to camp. Even Murphy’s usually-chilling death glare doesn’t have the same effect. Probably because it’s hard to be scared of someone who looks like a mutant chipmunk.

The second she sees him, Emori bursts into laughter. 

“ _ John _ ! Oh my God! What happened to you?” she asks, struggling to get the words out, happy tears running down her face.

Murphy mumbles something incomprehensible, averting his eyes. 

“You  _ what _ ?” Emori prompts, still laughing, edging closer to him and inspecting his swollen face. 

“I- I ate a mushroom. It was - obviously - poisonous.”

“I honestly can’t believe that,” Emori smirks. “You are an absolute idiot.”

“It’s not fucking funny!” Murphy whines, except because his tongue and cheeks are swollen it comes out sounding like  _ ith not thucking thunny! _

The group of kids surrounding Murphy erupt into more laughter. Murphy pulls the finger at their general direction and storms off, with Emori trailing closely behind.

“Babe, just go see Clarke and Lincoln in the med bay. They’ll probably have something that can fix your-” Murphy stops in his tracks and turns around to face her, and she can’t hold in another laugh because oh my  _ God  _ he looks like a hamster- “your fucking  _ ridiculous  _ looking face!”

His eyes narrow and he stomps off again, yelling something back at her about  _ not appreciating this  _ and  _ I’ll let it heal by itself _ . Emori stands there in the middle of camp, wiping her eyes and calming her breathing, wondering how long it will take before her stupid boyfriend accepts medical help. 

Turns out, it takes him kind of a long time. Murphy walks around camp for two whole days pretending like nothing is wrong with his face, struggling to slurp the soup they had for lunch both days with his fat swollen lips, being subjected to taunts and laughter from Raven and Jasper, and finding it really hard to sleep on his side. Emori doesn’t bother bugging him about getting it fixed. She knows he’ll ask on his own, and that it’s probably some good character-building shit or whatever that he eventually does.

Except he doesn’t ask Clarke for medicine. It’s not until the morning of the third day, when he almost chokes on a piece of fruit because his throat is slowly starting to close up, that Clarke steps in. 

The 100’s resident doctor sneaks into Murphy’s tent while he’s napping after lunch that day, wrenches his mouth open, and pours a herbal remedy she made from one of Lincoln’s recipes down his throat. Murphy wakes up with a start, sputtering and gagging, yelling blue murder at Clarke who stands there with her arms crossed and a sly smirk on her face.

“Give it a couple hours,” she says, “and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks a fucking lot, Clarke,” Murphy says, and crawls back into bed.

Clarke’s right. At dinner that night, Murphy’s face looks considerably less swollen. Emori still can’t stop laughing.


End file.
